


One Step Ahead

by maeung



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Break Up, art critic jaehyun, like half of them work in the art industry, writer doyoung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-11-18 23:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18127859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeung/pseuds/maeung
Summary: After the breakup, Kim Doyoung drops off the face of the earth.It's up to Jaehyun, armed only with hundreds of unsent letters, to bring him back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to [solera](https://twitter.com/princessgongju1) for beta-ing this! she's amazing and i love her

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I never told you this, but the day you said you loved me was one of the happiest days of my life. I was so happy that I never said it back. Maybe that’s why we didn’t last. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jung Jaehyun is an expert at two things. One of them is art. As an art critic, he can differentiate the individual strokes of a painting and describe a form a thousand different ways. The other is Kim Doyoung.

Kim Doyoung is a writer who lives in apartment 32B in a small building right next to the train station. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and he loves Queen. He classifies his moods by color. When Jaehyun shows up at his door with dinner, he says he’s “yellow.” When Jaehyun and he have an argument, he’s “grey.” When they spend long evenings talking over glasses of wine, he’s “purple.” When they broke up, he was “black.”

“Have you heard from him?”

Jaehyun sighs, “no,” he lights a cigarette, ignoring the curious look Yuta sends him. “He hasn’t reached out to me since we broke up three months ago. I doubt he ever will.”

“I thought you quit,” Yuta says. The two of them were leaning against the thin metal railing of Jaehyun’s balcony, the sounds of the city and the acrid smell of smoke filling their lungs.

“I did,” Jaehyun says, blowing out a plume of light grey smoke, “and then I started again.”

Yuta shrugs, grabbing a cigarette from the pack between them and pulling out a lighter. “To a short life,” he says, slipping the thin stick between his own lips.

Jaehyun nods in agreement. “This is the most art critic thing we’ve ever done.”

“There was the time I described Sicheng’s collection as ‘illogically ugly, like a poodle in flight,’ and then he didn’t talk to me for weeks,” Yuta says, “ironic since we live together.”

“Have you heard anything about him?”

“What? About Doyoung?” Yuta’s brows furrow, “not a lot, but I don’t think he’s doing well.”

Jaehyun sighs, “I figured.”

“What happened between you two, anyways?”

“Don’t really know,” Jaehyun mutters. “He just ended it.”

Yuta inhales sharply, shaking his head. “That sucks,” he pats Jaehyun’s shoulder, “I always thought he seemed unstable, you’re better off without him.”

Jaehyun nods, blowing out another puff of smoke. The smoke fills his lungs and wisps in the air as Jaehyun’s eyes trail the grey patterns, Yuta’s voice fading into the background. “Maybe.”

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ Everything in my apartment reminds me of you, it’s maddening. I don’t know why I kicked you out, but I pray it was still the best decision for both of us. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun’s dress shoes tap against the hardwood flooring of the art gallery, interrupting the quiet atmosphere. The grey wool of his turtleneck sweater stands out starkly from the white plaster walls. He pauses in front of an abstract piece, a series of small purple dots on a white canvas staring back at him.

“I call it  _ Eternal Love. _ It’s my favorite piece,” Chittaphon, says. “What do you think?” The artist looks up at Jaehyun.

“It’s very,” Jaehyun pauses, “refined.”

Chittaphon rolls his eyes, “be honest.”

“I’ve seen it before,” Jaehyun says simply. “It isn’t as good as your last collection.”

“I know,” he snorts, “I think I’m losing my spark.”

“Oh?”

“But who cares? No one gives a damn about the art. They just care about the name behind it. I’ve already sold a majority of my pieces. This one, in fact,” Chittaphon gestures up at the painting, “is about to be shipped off to Chicago for some rich businessman who knows shit about art.”

Jaehyun laughs, “you’re right.”

Chittaphon nods in agreement before launching into a rant about how fake and vapid the art world can be. Jaehyun nods at the right times while staring at the painting in front of him idly, suddenly reminded of a loose sweater, the same shade of purple, hanging off an elegant shoulder.

_ Eternal Love. _

If only it were real.

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ This letter is going out to everyone in my life. _

_ I’m thinking about going away for a while. If and when I do, don’t look for me, don’t try to get me to come back. _

_ I don’t know when I’ll be back, if at all. _

_ From, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun stares down at the piece of cream colored paper, eyes burning into the familiar handwriting as if by looking at it long enough, the words would change. The letter drops out of his shaking hands as he scrambles to grab his phone, dialing a familiar number.

“Yuta?”

“Yeah Jae, what’s up?”

“Did you,” Jaehyun looks down, “did you get a letter from Doyoung?”

“Hold up, let me check.” The sound of someone rummaging through mail in the background fills Jaehyun’s ears. “Yeah I got one.”

“It’s the first time he’s contacted me in three months,” Jaehyun says quietly, “what does this mean?” There was a pause as the sound of paper unfolding filled Jaehyun’s ear.

“I think,” Yuta eventually mumbles, “I think it’s nothing to worry about.”

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun’s brows furrow.

“Doyoung’s a writer; they’re always melodramatic. I mean, look at Sehun,” Yuta says calmly. “He’s just trying to get some attention. Ignore it. Besides, you guys aren’t even together anymore so why does it even matter?”

Jaehyun stares down at the letter on the floor before picking it up. “You’re right.” He says eventually, and he throws the letter in the trash.

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I’ve already left. Goodbye, and thank you for all the memories. _

_ Don’t look for me. _

_ From, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun had forgotten about the letter that was sitting at the bottom of his trash bin, but the moment another one arrives, his stomach drops. The thick paper crumples in his fingertips, and then he’s grabbing his keys, pulling on shoes haphazardly, and running out of his apartment.

In a small building right next to the train station, Jaehyun stands outside of the door to apartment 32B. He still has the keys.

The door opens, and armed only with Doyoung’s note, Jaehyun is faced with an apartment that just a quarter of a year ago he called his own. Everything feels terrifyingly familiar, like a snapshot of Jaehyun’s former life. The same coffee cup Doyoung always used is on the dish drying rack, and a newspaper folded the way it always was on top of the kitchen counter. He pauses, suddenly not really knowing what he’s doing here.

“Doyoung?” Jaehyun asks tentatively, stepping cautiously into the apartment. No one answers and he slowly steps into the apartment, sliding off his shoes near the door. “Are you here?”

Silence answers him, and Jaehyun wanders around the apartment, only to be greeted only by thin air and faded memories. He turns into Doyoung’s bedroom, and he notices something different when he opens the closet and sees that half of the clothes are gone. Jaehyun recognizes empty spaces where Doyoung’s favorite sweaters used to hang, and his eyes pointedly ignore Jaehyun’s old college sweatshirt thrown into a ball in the corner. The closet door closes with a heavy thud and Jaehyun sits down on the bed, the old box spring creaking under his weight.

The letter is crumpled, and Jaehyun gingerly flattens it against his thigh before letting the note fall onto the soft blankets. His eyelids flutter and Jaehyun lifts a hand to his face, staring blankly at his fingertips when they come back wet. His eyes land on a chestnut desk across from him and he slowly stands up, furiously pressing his palms against his eyes to stop the flow of water.

The desk is the only part of Doyoung’s apartment that’s not neat, and Jaehyun laughs bitterly when he remembers how Doyoung had always refused to let Jaehyun touch the workspace. Jaehyun rummag es through the drawers before his hands wrap around a familiar leather bound book. He picks it up and cracks open the heavy paper.

**Monday**

**This morning I had oatmeal and it was gross. Also, remember to call Sicheng about driving me to the store later.**

**-Doyoung**

Jaehyun sighs, tucking the journal back into the desk before bending down to close the drawer. He’s about to stand up again when a large cardboard box shoved into the corner catches his eye. He grunts, pulling out the surprisingly heavy box. Inside are stacks of paper, each filled with Doyoung’s familiar scrawl. He picks one up, a sinking feeling in his stomach when he sees what’s written.

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

He quickly stuffs the paper back into the box, eyes scanning over the papers and the feeling in his stomach grows when he sees they’re all titled the same thing.

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

Jaehyun doesn’t know what to think as he grabs the box before heading out of Doyoung’s abandoned apartment, leaving behind hundreds of bittersweet memories.

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

Jaehyun arrives back into his own apartment and dumps the box over, countless letters spilling over his hardwood flooring.

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ Yuta and Sicheng came over again. It’s always so awkward seeing them, especially when I know Yuta dislikes me. Sometimes I wish things could be how they used to be, when we could all just sit and laugh over a dumb movie. _

_ Sicheng invited me to his next gallery but I knew you’d be there so I passed. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

“You knew?!” Jaehyun slams his hand against his kitchen countertop, glaring at the man who was sitting across from him.

Yuta avoids looking at Jaehyun, eyes flitting over the messy state of the apartment and the piles of letters on the living room coffee table.  _ “Sicheng _ knew,” he corrects.

“You two fucking drove him to the airport,” Jaehyun says wildly, running his hands through his already messy hair. “You told me to ignore that letter!”

“Yes,” Yuta says tentatively, “to be fair, I didn’t know Doyoung was serious until he showed up at our door with a suitcase.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes, “and you didn’t even tell me?”

“I didn’t think I had to!” Yuta says, “I mean, c’mon Jae, you guys haven’t even  _ talked _ to each other in three months! You seemed like you moved on.”

“I,” Jaehyun starts, “I hadn’t.”

“Well, I see that now,” Yuta sighs. Silence blankets the air between them.

“How was he?” Jaehyun asks quietly.

“Honestly?” Yuta looks out the window, “he looked like a mess, but god , Jaehyun he was so happy.”

Jaehyun feels his heart tug. “He was happy?”

Yuta’s mouth twists. “I don’t know. He just seemed like he was relieved.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Did he tell you where he was going?” Jaehyun asks.

“He didn’t tell me but Sicheng told me on the way back. Apparently, he’s going back home.”

Jaehyun is suddenly thrown back into a memory of a happier time, in a small town meeting Doyoung’s parents in their cozy home. The summer cottage was beautiful, and so was Doyoung. Jaehyun remembers being unable to keep his eyes off of Doyoung while Doyoung smiled gleefully up at the sky. Jaehyun had never been so in love. “Okay,” Jaehyun exhales, “you’re going to drive me to the airport tonight.”

Yuta jerks up, staring into Jaehyun’s eyes for the first time that day. “What?”

“I’m going after him.”

“Are you  _ insane?” _

“No,” Jaehyun says calmly.

“What the fuck Jae-”

“Listen,” Jaehyun sets his palms down against the cold marble countertop, “I don’t mean to brag, but I’m kind of rich as fuck. I’m a world famous art critic at 22. I can do whatever the fuck I want, and right now, I want to purchase a plane ticket. And you’re going to drive me there.”

Yuta blinks, “you’re really doing this?”

Jaehyun nods.

“Do you have a plan on what you’re going to do if you find him?”

“No,” Jaehyun pauses, “but I’ll find a way to bring him home.”

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ Do you remember the time we went back to my hometown? It was so amazing, I never wanted it to end. Sometimes I think about that trip and smile because I remember how perfect that trip was. Remember we stayed in a hotel because my parent’s apartment was too small? It had a garden that we spent hours in. I hope you think of that trip too, but I know you’re probably too busy. I bet you’ve forgotten all about it. _

_ I bet you’ve forgotten all about us. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun lands in the small airport, a suitcase filled with necessities and a backpack filled with letters on his person. The terminal is bustling and filled with voices that Jaehyun doesn’t recognize, and Jaehyun feels awkward, like everyone is staring at him.

He has only one idea of where Doyoung could go, and by the time he walks out of the airport and into a cab, the adrenaline has worn off and Jaehyun’s knees bounce as he nervously thinks about what he would do if he can’t find Doyoung. “Oh god, what did I do,” Jaehyun mutters, ignoring the way the cab driver looks at him like he’s crazy.

That nervous feeling follows him as he steps into a small but familiar inn, the sounds of the street outside muffled as soon as the door closes behind him. “Hello sir, how can I help you?” the concierge asks.

Jaehyun fumbles through a response, “I’d like a room.”

The concierge nods, typing something into the computer. “Can I have a name?”

“Jung Jaehyun.”

“Have you been here before?”

Jaehyun pauses before his lips curl around the syllables. “Yes, once.”

“Then I trust that you remember all of our complementary services?”

He doesn’t, but Jaehyun nods anyways. “Yes.”

“Alright sir. Here’s your roomkey. I hope you have a nice stay!”

“Thank you,” Jaehyun looks at the nametag the concierge is wearing, “Kun.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jaehyun almost falls asleep in the quiet elevator, but he somehow finds himself swiping the roomkey through the scanner, opening up to a small hotel room. Jaehyun flops back onto the bed, the room almost exactly the same as the last time he stayed there. His eyes close, exhausted from the travel and he falls into a dreamless sleep in a bed that could fit two.

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I miss you so much it’s stupid. I was walking around the apartment today and saw one of your old college sweatshirts. Sicheng walked in to check up on me and found me staring at the wall with it in my hands. He threw it into the back of my closet. I hate this, I hate you, I hate how weak you make me. _

_ God, I think I need to go away. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun has taken to reading one letter from Doyoung each day, and just because he wasn’t home didn’t mean the habit had to stop. He sighs, setting down the paper and running his fingers through his hair, greasy from the long day of travel. Ugh, he needs a shower.

The inn has a complimentary breakfast, and Jaehyun’s hair is still wet by the time he makes it to the small room. There was a weak light filtering in through the windows as the smell of the hotel’s continental breakfast fills the air. He absentmindedly grabs a ceramic plate, piling it high with various pastries and yawns, walking over to a small table. The chair is missing a foot, and Jaehyun leans awkwardly to one side while biting into a stale danish. His eyes wander across the room before his body freezes, a dark-haired figure yanking all of Jaehyun’s attention towards him.

Kim Doyoung.

The pastry almost drops out of Jaehyun’s dropped jaw, and he blinks in shock. Doyoung was staring back at him, his face aghast with horror. A tense silence engulfs the two of them, and the sounds of the other patrons eating and chatting fade into the background. Jaehyun moves to stand up, but the harsh sound of a chair scraping against tile stops him. Doyoung winces before he throws his napkin down on the plate, quickly rushing out of the room.

Jaehyun’s fingers clench around the edge of the table, Doyoung’s name stuck in the back of his throat as his narrow frame escapes Jaehyun’s gaze.

“Shit,” Jaehyun grunts, his own chair creating the same jarring sound as he follows after Doyoung.

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ You keep calling and texting me. Stop. _

_ It’s better that we never see each other again. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

“What the fuck? Why are you here?”

Jaehyun flinches at Doyoung’s hiss, the writer glaring daggers at Jaehyun in the empty hallway. Jaehyun’s fingers tighten around Doyoung’s forearm. “I-”

“This is insane,” Doyoung growls.

Jaehyun gulps, avoiding Doyoung’s harsh gaze, “I’m here for,”—  _ god dammit Jaehyun, think of something _ —“for work.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes, “that’s bullshit.”

“It’s not,” Jaehyun shuffles his feet.

“Oh, so you just so happened to stay at the same hotel we did two years ago in the town I grew up in? Is this about the letters I sent you? God dammit, I  _ knew _ I shouldn’t have said anything to Sicheng,” Doyoung yanks his arm out of Jaehyun’s grasp. “Go back home Jaehyun, I’m serious. There’s nothing left here for us,” he spits out before leaving Jaehyun, alone in the hallway.

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ It’s move-out day, you’ve just left our apartment. Sorry, my apartment. _

_ I think I have to get used to that. _

_ The only thing I want to do is run back to you and invite you back into my life but I can’t, you’ve hurt me too much. I hate you so fucking much. _

_ I hate that I’m still in love with you. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun isn’t sure what to do, so he decides to take a walk. He’s been to Doyoung’s hometown multiple times over the years, so Jaehyun easily finds his way around the small town. He’s currently walking down a small line of shops, shoulders hunched as he stuffs his hands into his expensive leather jacket. His eyes wearily glance into the passing windows before catching on a small painting displayed in an unassuming storefront. Jaehyun pauses, his breath hitching as he looks at the canvas.

It’s a deceptively simple scene of a small cafe, but Jaehyun can’t look away. The colors are elementary, but the juxtaposition of deep crimson walls and a muted cadmium green ceiling simultaneously balances the image while also throwing a sense of dread throughout the piece. The rest of the painting is dominated by a sulfur yellow, washing everything in a sickly glow. The customers feature bleak expressions and the entire piece seems to mock Jaehyun, stirring up real feelings of uneasiness in his stomach. It reminds Jaehyun of how he felt watching Doyoung walk away. Had Jaehyun not been the man he was, he would have overlooked the painting, but Jaehyun quickly walks into the building, a small gallery opening up before him.

“Hello sir,” a short but regal looking man says, sitting behind the front desk. “Welcome to Moon’s Gallery.”

“Who painted the piece outfront?”

The man raises an eyebrow, “which one?”

“The cafe scene.”

“Ah,” a look of recognition crosses the man’s face, and he hops off of his chair, walking deeper into the gallery and gesturing for Jaehyun to follow. “That’s by Lee Donghyuck. We’re hosting an exhibit from the local university right now. He’s a third year art student there.”

Jaehyun nods in response.

“My name is Taeil, by the way. I own this gallery,” Taeil says, “and pardon me for being rude, but I don’t think I know your name. Which is odd, considering how small this town is.”

“Jung Jaehyun,” he replies, smiling awkwardly when Taeil stops, looking at the art critic in shock.

“Mr. Jung, what brings you here?” Taeil asks, his eyes wide.

“Call me Jaehyun. And,” Jaehyun pauses, “I don’t know, just a feeling.”

“Well, it’s an honor,” Taeil says, before gesturing towards a small section of pieces against the wall. “That’s Donghyuck’s section.”

Jaehyun turns and slowly walks by each of the paintings, nodding softly. “He’s good.”

“I know,” Taeil agrees.

“They’re a bit,” Jaehyun hums, “primitive in composition, but that’s to be expected of a someone so young. Students tend to either oversimplify or overexaggerate. But still,” Jaehyun pauses in front of a portrait, feeling the painting’s eyes bore into him, “there’s something about them that speaks to me. They’re interesting.” Jaehyun turns, digging into his pocket to place a small business card into Taeil’s hand. “Tell him to call me, I’d like to speak to him.” Jaehyun looks back at a portrait of two males, hands entangled.

_ My Love, _ the title declares. Jaehyun’s face twists, the hands almost mocking him.  _ Very interesting indeed. _

Maybe his lie to Doyoung was about to come true.

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I found some of your notes under the couch today. It had all the details from the latest exhibit you saw. God, you’re so meticulous. You examined every piece you could to the utmost detail, it was excruciating. _

_ I remember when you used to look at me the same way. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun flips past photos of various paintings, his eyes flitting over Lee Donghyuck’s portfolio as the artist fidgeted nervously in the seat across from him. Eventually, Jaehyun sighs, pushing Donghyuck’s abandoned cup of coffee towards him. “Drink something. You’re an anxious mess.”

“Sorry!” Donghyuck blurts out, almost knocking over the cup in his haste to follow through with Jaehyun’s suggestion.

Jaehyun nods before closing the thick leather binder and placing it heavily on the table. Donghyuck looks terrified. “You’re very good,” Jaehyun says, and the artist’s shoulders immediately relax, “you really have something there.”

“Thank you,” Donghyuck smiles tentatively.

“I’ll cut to the chase,” Jaehyun sips on his own coffee, “I’d like to recommend you to a few of my friends.”

Donghyuck’s jaw drops. “Really? Oh my god, are you kidding me right now?”

“I’m being serious. I know Lee Taeyong, the curator of the National Museum. I’ll show him your work with high recommendations.”

“Holy shit,” Donghyuck breaths out before flushing red at his mistake, “sorry for swearing. Oh my god I just can’t believe this is happening.”

Jaehyun laughs, “that’s fine. Would it be okay if Taeyong dropped by in the next few weeks or so to look through your work?”

Donghyuck nods quickly. “Of course! That’s perfectly fine,” he looks up at Jaehyun with wide eyes, “why me?” he asks, voice suddenly soft.

Jaehyun stirs his coffee absentmindedly, looking out into the small cafe. “You’re new talent Donghyuck. Honestly, I’ve felt a sort of detachment to art lately. I don’t know why,” Jaehyun is lying, he knows exactly why art started becoming splotches of color and lines after he stopped seeing Doyoung, “but your pieces, they make me love art again.”

“Thank you,” Donghyuck says softly. “I won’t let you down.”

“Of course,” Jaehyun says, eyes absentmindedly straying around the cafe before they rest upon a tall, familiar figure, staring at him. “I’m sorry, but I have to go now,” Jaehyun stands up quickly and Donghyuck looks at him, confused.

“Uh, okay? It was nice meeting you-”

“Nice meeting you too,” Jaehyun is already pulling on his coat, eyes frantically following the figure that is pushing through the tables towards the door. He pushes open the heavy door, feet landing heavily on concrete. “Doyoung!”

Doyoung pauses from up ahead before he turns back, face turned down in a grimace. “Yes?”

Jaehyun’s fingers itch to reach out to him, but they stay steadfast at his side, “I just want to talk,” he says weakly.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Who’s that?” he asks, head jerking towards Donghyuck, who flushes bright red when he realizes he was caught spying on them.

“New artist,” Jaehyun breathes out, “I wasn’t lying, when I said I was here for work.”

Doyoung frowns, “maybe. But that doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?” Jaehyun asks.

“I don’t know,” Doyoung sighs, a breeze ruffling through his hair, and Jaehyun wishes he was a photographer, so he could capture the way the windswept strands frame Doyoung’s face.“Just stay away, okay?” Doyoung says as he turns to leave.

“I can’t,” Jaehyun says quietly, but Doyoung’s flinching shoulders make it clear that he heard him. He pauses next to the street corner and glances back.

“Just try, okay? It’s best for both of us.” And with that, Kim Doyoung is gone.

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ Things are looking up, they’re thinking of publishing my novel next November. I wish I could tell you in person. I know you’d freak out with me, and we’d probably be crying messes. Despite that, I didn’t think of you nearly as much as I usually do today. _

_ Am I moving on? Or am I just forgetting? _

_ I don’t know which I want more. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun finds himself in a daze. He spends his time commuting between Donghyuck’s cramped studio, where they select pieces for Taeyong to examine, and aimlessly wandering the small inn and streets. He still sees glimpses of Doyoung, but the writer does his best to fervently ignore the other, often running past on his way to meet a tall stranger in the lobby. Jaehyun does his best to prevent the pain his heart, but he can’t help but glare at the man whenever he shows up. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“Finally,” Yuta’s voice crackles through the phone, “I was wondering when you’d give up.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, leaning back against a stone bench in the hotel’s courtyard. “Shut up.”

“Listen Jae, you’re my best friend, but I need you to hear this. What you’re doing? It’s creepy. Insane. Crazy.”

“Asshole.”

“You know I’m right,” Yuta sighs, “come home, Jaehyun.”

“Not without him.”

“What’s so great about him anyways? Do you even love him anymore?”

Jaehyun taps his fingers against his knee, “I don’t know.”

Yuta snorts, “are you kidding me? You followed him all the way to his hometown and you don’t even know why?”

“There’s just something about him. It’s like he completes me.”

“God, that’s cheesy.”

“You should understand, it’s how you feel about Sicheng.”

“Yeah, but at least Sicheng reciprocates. Sometimes. Have you even spoken to Doyoung since getting there? Or is he just avoiding you like how he always did?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer.

“Fucking knew it. What’s the point?”

“I found some new talent,” Jaehyun says, trying to switch the subject.

“That Lee kid, right? I showed the pictures you sent me to Taeyong. He’s interested,” Yuta says, “at least there’s one reason for you to stay in that good-for-nothing town.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, “Donghyuck really has something.”

Jaehyun hears shuffling and a door opening on the other side of the phone.

“Jaehyun?” A new voice asks, “it’s Sicheng. I just got back home.”

“Hey Sicheng,” Jaehyun smiles.

Yuta takes the phone again, “we’re going to have lunch soon, so I have to go. But promise me one thing before we leave.”

“Anything.”

“Give yourself a deadline. Taeyong arrives in two weeks, if you haven’t talked to Doyoung by then and made some form of progress, you’re coming home with Taeyong.”

“You can’t-”

“Jesus Christ, I’ll drag you out of there myself,” Yuta says.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, “fine. I’ll figure something out.”

“You better.”

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ You called again today. Just as I thought I was getting over you, I saw your number flash across my screen. I don’t know what you wanted, and I’m too scared to listen to the voicemail. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun doesn’t know how he does it, but he manages to track down Doyoung in a place he honestly should have searched before. Doyoung glares at him, his eyes darting around trying to find an escape but Jaehyun’s body blocks the exit from the narrow aisle. Books surround them, the musty scent of old paper tickling the back of his throat. “What are you doing here?” Doyoung hisses, a pale green book in his hands.

_ A Guide to Indoor Greenery, _ the faded text on the spine reads. Doyoung’s delicate fingers wrap around the edge of the book, his knuckles white. “I’m allowed to be here,” Jaehyun replies tentatively, “it’s a public library.”

“Stop following me,” Doyoung says, looking away from Jaehyun’s stare.

“I’m not-”

“Then what exactly do you call this?” Doyoung snaps. “You’re standing in a town where you barely know anyone, with the dumb excuse that you’ve found talent in an unknown art student. Yeah, right. Stop lying Jaehyun. You’re good at it, but I’m not an idiot.”

Jaehyun’s eyes narrow. “I’ve never lied to you.”

Doyoung frowns, “there’s another one.”

Jaehyun sighs, stepping closer to Doyoung and wincing when Doyoung presses himself further into the books. “Fine, maybe I did come here for you.”

“Why?” Doyoung asks, pain written across his face, “we’re over. We have been, for a long time.”

“I need to talk to you,” Jaehyun says.

“And you couldn’t for the six months we happened to live in the same city?”

Jaehyun scowls. “You avoided me for half a year! That’s why I’m here, because you wouldn’t talk to me!”

“Fine,” Doyoung glares, “then talk to me.”

Jaehyun blinks. He didn’t think he’d get this far. “I guess, uh-”

“I don’t have all day.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you break up with me?”

“Shit,” Doyoung says, paper crinkling under his fingertips, “it’s funny,” he laughs bitterly. “I’m an author, and yet I can’t figure out how to say this.” Doyoung slumps back against the shelves. “Oh god, what’s the word to describe this?” he mutters.

“Tragic?” Jaehyun offers with a sad smile.

“No,” Doyoung says, “it’s weird. You—you treated me like art.”

Jaehyun is confused. “What?”

“Like I was perfect, like a masterpiece.”

“...isn’t that good?” Jaehyun asks.

“It’s a fairytale romance.  _ We _ were a fairytale romance,” Doyoung says, his eyes downcast, “but it wasn’t real.”

Jaehyun’s glares. “It was all real. Don’t you ever say it wasn’t-”

“It was a lie, Jaehyun,” Doyoung looks up, “you thought I had no flaws.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re in love!”

_ “No,” _  Doyoung frowns, “you’re supposed to accept each other’s flaws.”

“Our flaws are what make us perfect.”

“Our flaws are what make us imperfect.”

“What are you talking about?” Jaehyun says, his eyebrows furrowing, “you don’t make any sense-”

“Doyoung, you ready to go?” Jaehyun turns around to see Doyoung’s tall stranger standing amid the shelves, looking over Jaehyun’s shoulder to meet Doyoung’s eyes.

Doyoung shoves past Jaehyun, his elegant shoulder pushing him back, “yeah Johnny, let’s go.”

Johnny nods, throwing an apprehensive glance back at Jaehyun before following Doyoung out of the library.

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ My brother came by to visit today. Remember him? You guys used to be so close. He didn’t say much about you, but I could tell that he missed you. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

“Jaehyun, are you alright?”

“Huh?” Jaehyun looks up from the drying oil paint. “Sorry, Donghyuck. I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck says, eyeing Jaehyun with suspicion. “Are you sure?”

Jaehyun feels a bit like an idiot, getting pity from a broke college sophomore. “Yes. Let’s just go over your portfolio again.”

“We’ve been doing that for two hours, I think it’s ready.”

Jaehyun smiles. “Who’s the world-famous art critic here?”

“Who’s the ‘amazingly talented and innovative’ artist here?” Donghyuck asks, using Jaehyun’s own words against him.

“Touché.”

“C’mon, just tell me what’s wrong.” Donghyuck says, sitting down on a cheap futon and patting an area next to him. Jaehyun laughs under his breath, unsure of when he became friends with someone years younger than him.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jaehyun sits down next to him.

Donghyuck snorts. “Yeah right. Just tell me!” he whines.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “Fine, there’s this guy,” God, he feels like a teenage girl.

Apparently, so does Donghyuck, because the boy immediately squeals. “Really? Oh, who? Do I know them?”

“We used to date, for a long time. And then we broke up around six months ago.”

Donghyuck’s face falls. “Oof.”

“And he sent me a letter one day, after months of not talking to me, telling me that he was going back home-”

“Wait, what’s this guy’s name?”

“So I followed him here to bring him back home but-”

“Hold up,” Donghyuck says, “is this about Kim Doyoung? Also, you followed a guy you hadn’t talked to in months to his hometown? That’s kind of-”

“Creepy? I’ve been told,” Jaehyun says, embarrassed, “to be fair, it was a spur of the moment kind of thing, but now since I discovered you, I have to stay here longer. And yes,” he hesitates, “this is about Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“It’s just,” Donghyuck laughs, “I’m best friends with his little brother, Jeno.”

Jaehyun blinks. “Oh? I remember him, I liked him.”

“Small world,” Donghyuck says, “but anyways, have you talked to him?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun sighs, “and it didn’t go well.”

Donghyuck hisses, “I’m sorry.”

“He said our entire relationship wasn’t real. What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck says, “but maybe you should ask him.”

Jaehyun looks at Donghyuck thoughtfully. “Maybe I will.”

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I think you never understood what a relationship was supposed to be. Everything you did was right, but it never felt right. _

_ I love you, so much. But I don’t know if what you feel for me is the same. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you mean, ‘everything was a lie?’” Doyoung looks up, a danish hanging limply from his mouth. Jaehyun yanks out the chair across from Doyoung, resting his arms against the small table in the middle of the empty breakfast hall. “And who’s Johnny?”

Doyoung swallows, “that’s none of your business-”

“I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me.”

“He’s,” Doyoung hesitates, “just a friend.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, “really?”

“Yes,” Doyoung says, “he owns the coffee shop in town, we were childhood friends.”

“Okay,” Jaehyun nods, “and what about the other thing? How was everything a lie?”

Doyoung stares at Jaehyun before he blurts out, “do you still love me?”

Jaehyun blanches, jerking back in shock. “What?”

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung leans forward, “why do you still care?”

“I-I, what?”

“Why do you care?” Doyoung repeats himself.

“Maybe I care because you’re calling four years of my life a fucking lie-”

“That’s not the only reason,  _ so stop lying.” _

“I don’t lie!” Jaehyun growls.

“Then tell the truth! Why do you care?”

“I don’t know!”

“Then what  _ do _ you know?!”

“That I still care about you!” Jaehyun says suddenly, his chest heaving before a feeling of dread bursts in his stomach.

Doyoung smiles wryly before standing up, his body rigid and too composed. “Meet me in the lobby tonight.” He starts walking away.

“What the fuck?” Jaehyun says.

“You want answers? I’ll give them to you tonight,” Doyoung says, then he’s gone.

“What the fuck?” Jaehyun repeats again, staring down at the table.

“What the fuck is right,” Jaehyun looks up to see the hotel concierge—Kun?—raising an eyebrow at him. “You guys are dramatic,” he says, rolling his eyes, “but you better show up tonight. I’m pretty sure that guy isn’t going to give you another chance.” Kun picks up an empty pitcher of orange juice and walks back toward the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Jaehyun agrees numbly.

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I’m sorry that I suck at communicating. I write dialogue for a living and yet it’s so hard for me to tell you how I’m really feeling. If I had, we’d probably still be together. I probably wouldn’t be writing these letters. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun checks his watch, the slow moving hands mocking him.

“Jaehyun,” he turns at the voice, and his jaw drops slightly when he catches sight of Doyoung. He’s dressed in a white button-up, the front tucked into his jeans and the sleeves rolled up.

“You look good,” Jaehyun says weakly.

“Thanks,” Doyoung replies, “you do too.”

“Where are we going?”

“Follow me,” Doyoung walks towards the door, “I know a place.”

The streets are dark, and even though it’s summer, the night air is chilly so Jaehyun is glad when they walk into a small cafe. Doyoung ignores the closed sign and opens the door to release the smell of freshly brewed coffee. There’s no one behind the counter, and all of the chairs are flipped onto the tables so Doyoung leads Jaehyun towards a small booth in the back.

“This is Johnny’s cafe,” Doyoung says. “It’s closed right now, but he left it open for me.” Doyoung steps behind the counter and starts expertly messing with the machines, brewing up some concoction.

“Do you do this often?” Jaehyun asks as Doyoung slides a mug of coffee across the table to him.

Doyoung nods, biting into a small scone, “I come in here a lot to write after hours. It’s peaceful.” Outside, the street lights flicker on, glowing brightly in the quiet night.

“Yeah,” Jaehyun nods, sipping from his mug. It’s perfect, Jaehyun notes. “You remembered how I like my coffee.”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah.”

A thick silence settles between them. “So,”

“So?”

“You said you’d give me answers.”

Doyoung sighs, his mug settling back down on the table with a thunk. “I did.”

“You’ve been,” Jaehyun pauses, trying to figure out the right word to use, “frustratingly vague about this whole situation.”

Doyoung nods, “I know. It’s just hard to explain.”

“Try your best. Be honest,” Jaehyun says, making eye contact. “I can handle it.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah,” Doyoung says slowly. “We were in love, but it wasn’t real.”

“I disagree.”

“I know,” Doyoung looks down at his hands, “but I think that’s the problem. According to you, we were in love. But your idea of love isn’t right.”

“How so?” Jaehyun’s knuckles turn white around his mug.

“You-you idealized us.” Doyoung says. “You spend your entire life looking at masterpieces,” he smiles wryly, “no wonder you do the same in relationships.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Jaehyun, in relationships, you aren’t  _ supposed _ to think the other person is perfect.”

“But-”

“You aren’t supposed to worship the other person, to see them as perfect.”

The mug is heavy in Jaehyun’s hands. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

“You were in love with me like how you would be in love with a painting. It’s like I had no flaws-”

“You don’t.”

“-but I  _ do.” _ Doyoung looks at Jaehyun. “No one is a flawless human being, especially me. It’s like—like-”

“Like what?” Jaehyun's voice feels heavy in his throat.

“It’s like you never really knew who I was.”

Jaehyun frowns, “Doyoung, that’s insane. I was by your side for years-”

“Do you know how exhausting it is? How anxiety-inducing to know that the man you’re in love with is only attracted to this romanticized version of yourself that isn’t even real?”

“We never fought,” Jaehyun says quietly.

“But we should’ve,” Doyoung frowns, “real couples fight. They talk through their problems. That one’s my fault, I should have,” Doyoung’s hair hangs across his face as he threads his long fingers through it. “God, I should have said something.”

“Doyoung, it wasn’t your fault-”

Doyoung slams his palms against the table, startling Jaehyun. “Dammit, it was! Stop trying to defend me. I’m shitty at communication, and we both know that. It’s a flaw, Jaehyun,” Doyoung hisses. “I have them.”

“Okay,” Jaehyun says weakly.

“I’m a person, a human. No one is perfect,” Doyoung says fervently. “When you love someone, you understand that. When you only love the idea of someone, you don’t.”

“Okay,” Jaehyun repeats. “I think I get it,” he smiles sadly. “You need someone who respects you but doesn’t ignore your flaws.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung whispers.

“Well,” Jaehyun smiles sadly, “what do you suppose we do now?”

Doyoung’s hand rests limply between them before his fingertips slowly edge towards Jaehyun’s. “We can forget, maybe just for a moment.”

Jaehyun eyes the hand, unable to stop his own palm from curling around Doyoung’s. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Just try, once.”

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I’m a coward. I never told you what I was feeling, and now I’m spilling it all into a letter you’ll never read. _

_ You know that feeling? When you’re lying in bed at 3 in the morning, staring at the ceiling with tears prickling in the corner of your eyes while your chest is so heavy, and your throat so choked up that it’s almost like you can’t breathe? We were like that. _

_ Actually, I was like that. _

_ I should have told you, god dammit, I should have said something. I think we could have worked, if we just talked it out. You didn’t deserve to be in a relationship with someone who couldn’t even look you in the eyes. _

_ I didn’t deserve to be in a relationship with someone who didn’t know the real me. _

_ It’s so shitty, and I feel so fucking bad because you just thought you were doing what people are supposed to do in relationships, what the movies tell us about love. But that’s just a fantasy. _

_ You looked at me like I was art, and I hated that. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

“Taeyong called. He’ll be down next week.”

“Alright.”

“Jaehyun, you know what that means,” Yuta’s voice says through the phone, “have you gotten anywhere with You-Know-Who?”

“He has a name you know.”

“Whatever. Just tell me how you moped in your room for a week instead of actually talking to Doyoung.”

“I  _ did _ actually talk to him, though.”

Yuta pauses. “What? What happened?”

“It was…alright. We need to figure stuff out,” Jaehyun sighs.

“Shit,” Yuta mumbles. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun responds.

“Okay,” Yuta says slowly. “Just remember, if you ever need anything, you can call me.”

“I know.”

“Jaehyun, be careful,” Yuta says slowly. “You’ve been hurt in the past, I don’t want you to be hurt again.”

Jaehyun stares at the hotel ceiling, sheets tangled around his legs. “I think I caused most of the hurting,” he says quietly.

“Jaehyun, no,” Yuta says softly. “You have to stop blaming yourself.”

“Then who  _ do _ I blame?” The sheets next to Jaehyun rustle softly.“Shit, I have to go.”

Yuta tsks, “okay, fine. But call me back later. This conversation isn’t over.”

“Bye, Yuta.”

“Bye, Jaehyun.” Jaehyun puts down his phone, glancing to the side and exhaling when he sees the wide expanse of Doyoung’s back, his head facing the other direction. The dimples on his back are dotted with tiny moles and Jaehyun resists the urge to reach across the foot of empty space between them. Instead, he slowly gets out of bed, making sure to not wake Doyoung as he slowly pulls on his shirt and jeans from the night before.

Jaehyun stands in the doorway, his fingertips resting on the doorknob, and he finds himself looking back at the empty indentation he left in the mattress next to Doyoung. Jaehyun slowly opens the door, facing the hallway before he lets out a heavy breath and leaves.

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ God, I get so lonely. I’ve been on a few dates, but only because it’s been three months since we broke up and Sicheng is worried about me. But I can’t help but notice that nothing ever feels the same. No one else makes me feel anything like what you do. _

_ Isn’t that fucked up though? I was unhappy in our relationship, and yet I’m still unhappy out of it. _

_ I wish I could be yours again, but without all of our issues. _

_ Maybe just for one night. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

“You did  _ what?!” _ Donghyuck slumps against his old futon and glares at Jaehyun. “You dumbass.”

“Thanks,” Jaehyun mumbles, arranging photos of Donghyuck’s portfolio to create a perfect order. “You’re a good friend.”

“I might have not been in a relationship for as long as you or have as much experience, but I do know one thing. You don’t sleep with someone after meeting up with them for the first time, six months after your breakup.”

Jaehyun can’t bring himself to look at Donghyuck’s judgemental gaze. “I know, fucking hell, I know. I just-”

“Just what?”

“I couldn’t help it.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Well, I don’t know why you did it. He basically laid out all the reasons why you were a shitty boyfriend. Why would you ever agree to fuck him after that?”

Jaehyun shrugs. “Habit?” he says weakly. “God, he just looked so good and he asked me to come to his hotel room and seemed  _ so lonely. _ I couldn’t just say no-”

“Why would he even ask you?”

Jaehyun runs his hand through his hair. “I’m trying to figure that out too. Just a little while ago, he wanted nothing to do with me. He wanted me to leave. Now I’m getting so many mixed signals, I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe that’s it,” Donghyuck says, “maybe he doesn’t know either.” 

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ Today was alright, but it was quiet. I talked to my editor about the book launch, and apparently, it’s being pushed back a few months. They claim it’s too sad, that my audience won’t like it because they’re used to my happy love stories. I don’t know what to do. _

_ I wish I could ask you, you’d probably know. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun stumbles into his hotel room, hands gripping on Doyoung’s shoulders as he pushes the door closed with his foot before pushing the other against it.

“Fuck,” Doyoung moans as Jaehyun’s lips land in the junction where his neck meets his collarbones. Jaehyun smirks, Doyoung’s fingers flying up to grip the back of his neck as Jaehyun’s hands slide down his waist. He pauses, shifting back for a second.

“Doyoung, I don’t think we should be-”

Doyoung shakes his head. “Don’t talk,” he whispers, moving his hands to Jaehyun’s chest and pushing him forward until the backs of Jaehyun’s knees hit the mattress.

Jaehyun nods as he falls back against the blankets, his hands wrapped around Doyoung’s slim waist. He closes his eyes while Doyoung’s legs shift rest on either side of his hips, grinding down before Doyoung leans forward, capturing Jaehyun’s lips with his. The familiarity of it all makes Jaehyun’s mind race. Deep down, he knows he’s being used, that Doyoung’s just lonely and Jaehyun’s just convenient. But as Doyoung’s sweet moans float into his ears and their hips shift against each other, he can’t bring himself to care.

He’s found himself in this situation a lot lately.

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I booked my flight today. I guess I’m doing it, I’m leaving. _

_ It’s so dumb, but I hope I never see you again. But I also hope that the opposite happens. _

_ I feel relieved and also like I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun wakes up to an empty bed, the space to the left of him cold. He sighs, standing up and wincing when his bare feet hit the cold hardwood flooring. There’s no sign of Doyoung anymore, only the deep purple splotches on Jaehyun’s neck when he looks in the mirror.

He hesitates next to his bedside table before grabbing his cellphone.

“Hello?”

“Yuta, I need your help,” Jaehyun says.

“Yeah Jae what’s up?”

“How do you see someone as a person?”

“Uh,” Yuta hesitates, “with your eyes? What are you even talking about?”

“Doyoung told me that I idealized our relationship,” Jaehyun says bluntly, “he said that I didn’t see his flaws, like he wasn’t human. Sorry, I know this explanation is shit but I’m still kind of confused too.”

“No, I get it.” Yuta says, “Sicheng and I went through something similar.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He spent so much time picking apart his own artwork when he painted that he just couldn’t stop when he got home. So he started finding imperfections in everything he did. At the same time though, he saw me as something he could never achieve and compared everything he did to me. It was,” Yuta sighs, “it was bad.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Yeah it was. But we talked about it, and fixed it.”

“How?”

“You have to figure out where you went wrong. Then you have to communicate. You can’t do anything if both of you aren’t on the same page.”

“Where did I go wrong?” Jaehyun asks, his voice small.

“Shit Jaehyun, do you want me to be honest?”

“Yes. Tell me the truth.”

“I don’t know if you remember, or if you were even aware, but fuck. It was bad. Toxic even.”

Jaehyun’s stomach drops. “Really?”

“Remember how you got famous? You were ruthless to every single piece of art you laid your eyes on. Nothing was good enough. Because in your eyes, Doyoung was the example you set as a masterpiece, and you compared every painting, drawing, sculpture, whatever to him.”

Jaehyun blinks, taken aback. “Fuck.”

“He knew. I could see it, Jaehyun, he knew. That kind of pressure, knowing someone sees you as a god, the epitome of perfection,” Yuta swallows. “I can’t imagine what it does to you.”

Jaehyun says nothing.

“Haven’t you noticed that ever since you guys broke up, your reviews have felt a little more heartless? Because you lost your standard. Truthfully, you’ve been just trying to achieve your legacy; attempting the same shit over-and-over again to get even a fraction of the success you once did. But it hasn't been working. We both know that.”

There’s silence for a second before Jaehyun says something, voice weak. “I really fucked up, didn’t I.”

“Yeah. You both did.”

“How do I fix it?”

Yuta sighs, “are you sure you want to?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun says with no hesitation.

“Talk to him. Spend time with him. Fall in love again, but with him as a person. That’s all you have to do.” 

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ Lately, I’ve felt a bit pathetic writing these letters. It’s not like you’re ever going to read them. _

_ One day, when I’m over you, I’ll stop. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

“Stay.” Jaehyun reaches his hand across the bed to grip Doyoung’s wrist, halting him from leaning over the side of the bed to grab his sweater.

Doyoung freezes, his body tensing as he turns to look Jaehyun in the eyes. “But-”

“Please?” Jaehyun asks softly, shifting his body back to prop himself up against the pillows.

Doyoung hesitates before to turns around, body fully facing Jaehyun’s. “Okay,” he says, voice betraying his nerves.

Jaehyun smiles, tucking himself back under the covers and pulling up the sheets to cover Doyoung. They lay there, bathed in moonlight, not saying anything until Doyoung’s eyes flutter shut, Jaehyun inches his arm forward, wrapping it around Doyoung’s waist before he pulls the other towards him, Doyoung’s back resting against Jaehyun’s front. Doyoung’s breath catches and his body is stiff, but eventually he relaxes into Jaehyun’s chest. Jaehyun’s breath becomes steady and quiet, and he’s almost asleep when a soft voice breaks the silence.

“I wish,” Doyoung whispers, thumb rubbing against Jaehyun’s arm, “I wish we could be like this all the time.”

Jaehyun’s eyes are wide before he chokes out a response. “Me too.”

Doyoung’s thumb pauses and Jaehyun hears his fingers clench around the sheets. They both don’t say anything for a long time. “Goodnight, Jaehyun.”

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I had a dream about you. We were happy, there was a gold ring on my finger and we lived in a large house filled with the sound of laughter. There was a little kid that ran through the halls, chasing after a tiny puppy. _

_ I couldn’t sleep after that, it was like the feeling when you’re in bed at night after waking up from a dream, but all of a sudden, you start thinking there’s a monster lurking in the corner, so you refuse to look there because you’re too scared, but then you’re also too scared to fall asleep—I’m rambling. _

_ But I’m scared. So scared. _

_ Did I give up my only chance at happiness? _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

One morning, they decide to go out together. Doyoung had been pulling on his shirt from the night before when he commented about how horrible the hotel breakfast was and how much he wanted a real home cooked meal.

“Wait, this is your hometown, right? Can’t you just go to your parents?” Jaehyun asks from where he’s digging through the drawers for a presentable pair of pants.

“Usually I would,” Doyoung says, “but no one’s home right now. My parents decided to go on a holiday for the summer and Jeno lives with three other guys so I can’t exactly invade his apartment.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun says dumbly, “well, why don’t we go to that diner down the road?”

“Huang’s? Sure, why not.”

The small diner is quaint, a quintessential local joint that reeks of fried food and milkshakes. A short boy yawns in the morning light as he leads them to a booth, laying down two menus.

“Thanks, Renjun,” Doyoung says and the boy waves in response. “He’s one of my brother’s friends. His parents own the place,” Doyoung offers as explanation.

“Ah,” Jaehyun says and cracks open the menu. A comfortable silence envelops the two as Jaehyun flips through the grease stained laminate. Despite the sense of ease surrounding them, Jaehyun can’t help but feel the presence of an unspoken question. Is this a date?

“What can I get you two today?” Renjun comes around again, this time brandishing a tiny notebook and pen.

“Coffee for me, one cream. And a coffee for him too,” Doyoung gestures at Jaehyun with his menu, “two creams, two sugars.” Renjun nods and jots it down. “And I’ll have a plate of pancakes and a side of fruit.”

“I’ll have a ham and cheese omelette and hash browns.”“Okay,” Renjun mumbles, writing down their orders. “It’ll be right out.” The short boy turns, yelling. “Ham and cheese omelette, hash browns, pancakes and fruit!” His soft voice surprisingly shrill.

Another boy pops his head out of the small window into the kitchen, his large ears sticking out from the side of his head. He grins at Renjun, giving him a thumbs up. “Okay!” His loud voice bellows through the small diner, making Jaehyun jump. The other patrons and Doyoung don’t even bat an eye.

Renjun rolls his eyes, “Xuxi is such a dumbass,” he mutters fondly before walking away.

By the time their food arrives, Jaehyun and Doyoung are deep in conversation. The topics are light, both of them obviously avoiding the elephant in the room, and Jaehyun chews around a mouthful of eggs before swallowing, continuing his story. “Yeah, and then Yuta wrote in Sicheng’s review that the exhibition was ‘illogically ugly, like a poodle in flight,’ and it got printed in all of the papers! Sicheng didn’t even talk to him for a week!”

Doyoung laughs loudly, “Oh my god I knew he was angry, but I never knew that was why!”

“He was pissed,” Jaehyun shakes his head, remembering how Yuta had to sleep on his couch during the duration of that. He immediately tells Doyoung that detail, and grins when Doyoung doubles over with even more laughter.

The morning light casts a pale yellow over Doyoung, the author’s face depicting careless joy. His mouth is open too wide, revealing his gums and Jaehyun’s cheeks ache just looking at the deep laugh lines forming around Doyoung’s lips. His nose is all scrunched up, and his eyes are puffy and squinted, creating wrinkles that gather at the corners. His cheeks are flushed and ruddy, his hair a mess, and his t-shirt is wrinkled with  a small coffee stain on the collar. Nothing about the image is right. It’s not symmetrical, it doesn’t follow the golden ratio, it’s not regal, or elegant, or even aesthetically pleasing. It doesn’t deserve to be in an art museum, hanging next to Vermeer or Matisse, but Jaehyun thinks that it doesn’t have to.

Doyoung is still breathtaking, but it’s different now. The Doyoung in front of him is striking, genuine, viscerally real. There’s something about the art of painting that can never quite get raw emotion right, no matter how skilled the artist. But Jaehyun doesn’t need a painter to show him what being human is like.

He thinks he understands now.


	3. Chapter 3

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I’m mad right now. I went to the store and couldn’t choose whether to buy peanut butter or almond butter and it just made me so angry because I have no idea why I’m so indecisive. It’s like I can’t make a decision at all, I’m so weak-willed. This whole situation is a dumb metaphor of my entire life, constantly arguing with myself over every decision I make. _

_ Ugh. I’m reading over what I just wrote and realizing that I make no sense at all. _

_ Today isn’t my day. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Sometimes Jaehyun has mornings to himself. He rises with the sun, quietly pulling on a sweatshirt before leaving the hotel room, walking through the chilly air as the sunrises. There’s never anything to do, but Jaehyun enjoys the quiet walk that allows him to relax and ignore his instability. He walks a little farther than he normally does this morning, and is happily surprised to see the one cafe in town is already open, warm light cast onto the cement sidewalk.

Jaehyun is immediately assaulted by the scents of cinnamon, coffee and pastries as soft jazz filters through the air from unseen speakers. “Morning, sir,” the barista says, his eyes heavy and betraying how tired he is. ‘Mark,’ as his name tag reads, stifles a yawn and smiles weakly. “What can I get for you?”

“Can I have a macchiato,” Jaehyun says, “and uh,” his eyes scan the menu.

“I recommend the blueberry scone,” a deep voice says as a tall figure steps out of the back kitchen carrying a large tray of muffins.

Jaehyun gulps at the sight of Doyoung’s ‘childhood friend,’ who towers over him. “I’ll have that then.”

“Okay,” Mark says, “what’s your name for the order?”

“Jaehyun.” Johnny, who had been methodically placing muffins into the glass display case, jerks up, almost hitting his head against the counter.

“Jaehyun? As in Jung Jaehyun?” Johnny asks.

Jaehyun wants to sink into the ground and never come back. “Yes,” he says timidly.

Johnny narrows his eyes. “Markles, don’t bother ringing him up. Use my employee discount, this man’s on me.” Johnny steps out from the counter, looking down at Jaehyun. “Let’s talk, Jung Jaehyun.”

Oh god, Jaehyun’s not going to survive this one.

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I got a phone call from my friend Johnny today! I don’t think you guys ever met, but Johnny and I used to be neighbors and were best friends. He was even my first kiss when I was 12, but once we both went to separate colleges, we sort of drifted away. It was nice to talk to him again, but it really made me miss home. _

_ I’m thinking about visiting again one day, it’d probably be good to go away. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun nervously eats half of his scone before he even sits down.

Johnny relaxes across from him, sinking down into a comfortable armchair, humming along to the sound of the saxophone playing in the background. “So,” he says casually.

“So?”

“You’re the man who broke Kim Doyoung’s heart.” Johnny’s smile drops at the same time as Jaehyun’s stomach.

“You’re the childhood friend who stole his first kiss.” Jaehyun replies.

“Yep,” Johnny says, “we go way back.”

“Oh.”

“I know him better than I know myself, but one thing I’ve never done is met the man who spent years by his side.”

“That’s me,” Jaehyun says weakly.

‘Uh huh. And it seems that you two are planning on trying again. How fun.” Johnny glares. “Tell me Jaehyun, why do you think you deserve to have Doyoung back?”

“I,” Jaehyun sips his coffee, ignoring the way it scorches his tongue. “I think we work.”

Johnny rolls his eyes, “obviously, you’re in each others’ beds almost every night now.”

Jaehyun wishes he could hurl himself off a cliff. “He told you that?”

“We’re very close again, he tells me a lot.” Johnny shrugs, “besides, with how small this town is, everyone knows everyone’s business. Kun has been telling us about all the drama that goes on in that hotel.”

Jaehyun’s cheeks are pink. “Ah.”

“Give me a real answer Jaehyun. Why do you deserve to be with Doyoung again?”

Jaehyun hesitates. “I think, I think I can fix the mistakes I made before.”

Johnny snorts, “you better,” he scoffs under his breath.

“I loved him then, and I love him now,” Jaehyun says, “but it’s different. I’m trying my hardest to be realistic, to understand the difference between infatuation and love. There’s so much about Doyoung I haven’t learned about, that I was too blind to see before.”

Johnny hums, “and do you think you two will actually work?”

“I hope so.”

“Do you know?”

Jaehyun pauses. “No.” He taps his leg anxiously, “but I think that’s okay.”

Johnny raises his eyebrows. “Oh really?”

“Love isn’t predictable, I think it’s fine that it’s an unknown variable. The last time we were together, I thought I knew everything. I tried to make us follow a script, like a movie. But now, now I know that isn’t true. Love isn’t something I can control.”

Johnny stares at Jaehyun. “Right.”

“Doyoung and I, we have our problems, but right now I don’t even know what you can call us. We’ll move at the pace that’s best for us. Maybe we’ll get back together, maybe,” Jahyun looks away, “maybe we’ll never speak to each other again. Either way, it’s okay. As long as Doyoung is happy.”

Johnny taps his fingers to the beat of the jazz playing through the cafe as a silence settles between them. Finally, he sighs, leaning forward. “Jung Jaehyun, you’re different that what I thought you’d be.”

“I hope that’s good.”

Johnny shrugs. “Would you like another scone?”

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ Sicheng says that I should just talk to you instead of writing these letters. I told him I’d try, but we both know I won’t. Maybe one day. But for now, this is good enough. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Lee Taeyong arrives and Jaehyun’s world turns into a frenzy. Donghyuck is frantic, nervously ranting to Jaehyun about worse-case-scenarios during the time leading up to their meeting. He puts a pause on his budding whatever-this-is he has going on with Doyoung to concentrate on the student who has currently locked himself into the gallery bathroom, Jaehyun frantically knocking on the door while Taeyong pretends not to notice the chaos in the background. “Donghyuck, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m going to die, oh my god,” Donghyuck’s voice is muffled from inside the bathroom.

“Come out Hyuck, you’ll be fine.”

“No I won’t!” the art student wails, “he’s going to hate me and then I’ll be blacklisted from art forever and-”

“He’s not going to do that,” Jaehyun says, exasperated. “He’s going to love you. You have talent, Donghyuck. I believe in you.”

Donghyuck sniffles before the door cracks open, revealing a tuft of dyed orange hair and eyes that are puffy and rimmed with red. “Really? Do you mean it?”

“Yes.’ Jaehyun says softly, “I do.”

“Okay,” the door gingerly opens and Donghyuck shuffles out. Jaehyun sighs, adjusting the collar of his shirt and fixing Donghyuck’s hair.

“You ready?”

“No.” Donghyuck says, “but let’s go.”

Lee Taeyong is an intimidating man. He lives in black cashmere turtlenecks, a pair of thin wire-rimmed frames rest on the bridge of his nose. He has the type of face that screams to be painted, all angles and striking features. He exudes intelligence, and Jaehyun stifles a laugh when Donghyuck whimpers after Taeyong shakes his hand. “This is Lee Donghyuck, a third-year art student.”

“Lee Taeyong, art curator of the National Museum.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Donghyuck says, uncharacteristically shy.

“This section of the gallery is Donghyuck’s,” Jaehyun says, gesturing around them. “Take a look around, tell us what you think.”

Taeyong nods thoughtfully, dress shoes tapping across the wood flooring as he squints at a large painting. Donghyuck and Jaehyun wait—one more calm than the other—as Taeyong slowly moves from one painting to another. Finally, the curator stands in front of them.

“You’re good.”

Donghyuck lets out a sigh of relief.

“But I’m going to have to see more before I decide.”

Donghyuck almost cries.

Jaehyun decides that Donghyuck needs a calming environment, so he takes the duo to the only cafe in town to hopefully cool his nerves over a cup of hot chocolate. Jazz again filters into the air outside when Jaehyun opens the door, but he is pleasantly surprised to see that a live trio consisting of a trumpet, guitar, and upright bass players situated in the corner.

“This is nice,” Taeyong says, smiling softly as the scent of cinnamon and freshly baked pastries assault their scents. Jaehyun nods, walking up to Mark who pauses in his conversation with a tall boy Jaehyun vaguely recognizes as the chef from Huang’s Diner.

“Three hot chocolates please,” Jaehyun says, sliding over a couple of bills. The barista nods and turns to fill out their order. Jaehyun sees Johnny come out of the kitchen carrying a bundle of cakepops and they smile at each other before Johnny ducks into the back again.

“Here you go,” Mark says, handing over three cups. “Good luck,” he whispers to Donghyuck, whose face is devoid of all color as he numbly takes a mug.

They settle in a side booth next to a window, and Jaehyun fumbles in his bag to retrieve a thick manila folder filled with photos of Donghyuck’s works.

“Thank you for coming here Mr. Lee,” Donghyuck says, his fingers nervously tapping against the table along with the smooth jazz in the background.

“Call me Taeyong,” Taeyong answers before smiling, the intimidating art critic suddenly appearing more human. “And the pleasure is all mine. You’re a very talented young artist.”

Donghyuck’s eyes widen, “thank you Mr. Lee—I mean, Taeyong. That means a lot!”

Jaehyun sets down the folder, opening it and sliding glossy photos across the surface of the table. “I think he has a lot of potential. Donghyuck has an eye for color and composition, and all of those elements in his artwork will obviously be honed with time and experience.”

Taeyong nods, sipping on his drink as he holds up one of the photos. “What medium are you most comfortable with?”

“Oils,” Donghyuck automatically responds, “they allow for smooth blends but you can still build on them to make a painterly style.”

“I like the emotions you invoke in your pieces,” Taeyong sets down a photo, depicting a small cafe scene, the very same that made Jaehyun so curious in the first place. “That’s something you can’t learn, you just have to have it.”

“Thank you,” Donghyuck smiles.

“I’m going to be honest with you,” Taeyong says, flipping through more pieces, “I didn’t really expect much from this. But after looking at your pieces, I think we really have something here.”

Jaehyun beams at Donghyuck, who looks like he’s about to scream. “Are you kidding me?”

“No,” Taeyong laughs, “I’d like it if you went to Seoul with me to discuss putting a few pieces up or being a featured young artist.”

“Yes!” Donghyuck exclaims, “I will, oh my god!” He grins and leans across the booth, wrapping his hands around Taeyong’s frame. The curator’s eyes widen in surprise before he awkwardly hugs Donghyuck back. “Thank you so much, you won’t regret it! And uh, I’ve been holding it in for the past few hours but I really need to go to the bathroom so bye!” Donghyuck leaps up and scurries away, almost running into one of the live musicians as Taeyong watches him in shock.

“He’s interesting,” Taeyong shakes his head, a fond smile on his face.

“Yes,” Jaehyun agrees.

“We need to talk about something else though.” Taeyong’s eyes narrow, “Yuta’s been filling me in.”

Jaehyun laughs awkwardly, “did he?”

“Yes,” Taeyong stares Jaehyun down, “he also told me to drag you back home if you and Doyoung weren’t back together by now.”

Jaehyun’s stomach drops. “Shit, I forgot about that.”

“Well, am I going to have to force you in my suitcase?”

“Uh-”

“Let me rephrase that,” Taeyong rolls his eyes, “are you and Doyoung together?”

“Kind of? Maybe?” Jaehyun says sheepishly, avoiding Taeyong’s eyes. “No.”

Taeyong sighs, “I should have known.”

“Wait! We’re just not official yet, that’s all.”

Taeyong frowns, “Jaehyun, don’t you think you need to move on? It’s been over six months-”

“No.” Jaehyun says firmly, “we’ll work this out, okay? Just give me some time.”

Taeyong takes another sip of his drink, “I don’t know Jaehyun, I was only planning on staying here a few days.”

“I know, just—please.”

Taeyong looks down, “I’m going to grab another drink.” He stands up, looking back at Jaehyun. “I don’t know if I can stay longer, Jaehyun. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun stares into the swirls of chocolate and whipped cream in his drink before he looks at Taeyong’s back. His mind is racing, but the thoughts are suddenly halted when five things happen.

One, Johnny steps out from behind the counter, carrying a tray of glasses filled with coffee. His eyes lay on Taeyong and he freezes.

Two, the live band takes a break, the trumpet player setting down his instrument on a stand, grabbing the microphone and announcing to the coffeeshop his name, Liu Yangyang. He's halfway through introducing their upright bass, Wong Kunhang and their guitar player, Xiao Dejun, when he turns, his leg suddenly jutting out and knocking against the shiny brass of his instrument.

Three, the trumpet goes flying, somehow striking Johnny’s knees.

Four, Johnny trips, and the platter of drinks goes down with him.

Five, time seems to stop as Taeyong stands in front of him, suddenly drenched in ice coffee.

“Oh shit,” Yangyang curses softly into the microphone. Donghyuck, who had just emerged from the bathroom, looks at the scene before him in horror before he slowly creeps behind the counter, standing next to Mark who is trying to stifle a laugh. Jaehyun watches as Donghyuck sinks down below the counter, knowing that the artist is probably repeatedly knocking his head against the display case right now.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” Johnny says frantically, grabbing a giant wad of napkins and desperately trying to clean iced caramel macchiato off of Taeyong’s cashmere turtleneck. “Fuck, I don’t know what happened I usually have good reflexes-”

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun observes as Taeyong’s hands fly up to stop Johnny from patting his chest again, the curator’s cheeks dusted with red, “it was just an accident.”

Johnny is undeterred, his panic-stricken mind desperately trying to think of a solution. “Is there anyway I can fix this? Free coffee? Oh god, your sweater was probably really expensive. Here, take mine!” Jaehyun’s eyes widen as Johnny hurriedly pulls off his own light blue sweater and holds it out to Taeyong. He tries not to laugh as Taeyong’s flush turns even darker, the curator’s eyes moving around wildly. Mark laughs loudly in the background.

“Y-You’re shirtless.” Taeyong says quietly.

Johnny looks down and suddenly his cheeks match Taeyong as he puts on his sweater again as fast as he can. “Fuck,” Johnny groans, “I’m just making things worse, aren’t I?”

Taeyong nods awkwardly.

“Uh, well, I’m sorry this happened.”

“It’s fine,” Taeyong says, clearly looking for an escape.

“Can I make it up to you? Stop by sometime, I’ll give you free drinks whenever you want.”

Taeyong’s eyes widen and he flushes again, “o-okay,” he says before he immediately turns around and heads back towards Jaehyun. Johnny stares for a second before he darts back into the kitchen, ignoring the way Mark whistles at him.

Jaehyun watches Taeyong sit down across from him again, cheeks still pink. “So,” he grins cheekily, “thinking of staying?”

Taeyong looks down, “two weeks. You get two weeks.”

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ Do you ever think about what would happen if we got back together again? I try not to, but it’s always in the back of my mind. _

_ Even though I know we won’t, I hope that if we do, we learn from our mistakes. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Doyoung stares at him in horror from across the breakfast table. Taeyong is still jet lagged, and probably bundled in a pile of blankets upstairs in his room, so Jaehyun takes advantage of the alone time. “Johnny did what?”

“He spilled coffee on Taeyong, took off his shirt, and then asked him out on a date.”

“You’re kidding me. Johnny doesn’t go on dates, he’s too busy.” Doyoung frowns.

“Well I mean, he offered him free drinks and told him to come back to the cafe-”

“Oh my god,” Doyoung groans, “in Johnny world, he basically just proposed to him.”

Jaehyun shrugs and sips his coffee. “It was cute.”

Doyoung eyes him with confusion, “how? It seems like a horrible situation.”

“Like one of those ‘meet-cute’ situations. I don’t know, they were both so flustered. It was kind of romantic.”

“Taeyong’s sweater got ruined,” Doyoung says dryly, “and Johnny committed public indecency.”

“The beginning of a beautiful love story.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes, “you always think things are like that. You were the one who realized Sicheng and Yuta were dating before me. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Maybe it’s just the way my brain works,” Jaehyun says, “I think I just see the world like that.”

“Through rose-colored glasses.”

“Heart-shaped glasses. I don’t think it’s rose-colored, because I’m not being idealistic, I’m just seeing things that most people wouldn’t.”

Doyoung pauses, looking at Jaehyun thoughtfully. “Yeah, maybe you are.”

They decide to take Taeyong out. Doyoung is excited to show off his hometown to someone new, and while Jaehyun is weary about parties, he’s glad to see Doyoung happy. Johnny joins them for the night, immediately causing Taeyong to rethink his outfit choice over-and-over again until Jaehyun finally pushes him out of his hotel room, wearing the same v-neck tee and tight jeans he tried on the first time.

“It’s a small place, but it’s still fun.” Doyoung says, and Jaehyun can feel the low thrum of the bass deep in his body as they get closer to the building. They arrive at a small nightclub, greeted by groups of people dancing inside the dark interior. “C’mon! I know the bartender, so we’ll get free drinks!” Doyoung yells over the loud music. Johnny’s tall frame parts the seas of people as the small group approaches the bar. “Jungwoo!”

The bartender glances up from where he’s sliding a shot glass over the counter and beams, walking over to them. “Kim Doyoung! Haven’t seen you in forever!” His soft voice is almost lost amid the noise of people enjoying themselves. “What brings you here?”

“Decided to come back home for a bit,” Doyoung shrugs.

Jungwoo nods before grinning at Johnny. “Are you here to DJ tonight?”

“You’re a DJ?” Taeyong asks as Johnny sheepishly smiles.

“Sometimes, but I’m not very good.”

Jungwoo rolls his eyes, “yeah right, he’s great. Don’t listen to him. Sucks that you aren’t doing it tonight, but I heard Mark might take over later so that’ll be fun.”

Johnny nods, “oh yeah he was talking about it. He’s excited but I had to tell him to stop plugging his SoundCloud, it’s annoying.”

Taeyong laughs and Johnny smiles fondly at him. “Oh?” Jungwoo snickers, “what’s this?”

They both turn bright red and look away quickly. “Just give us some shots Woo.” Doyoung says.

“Alright,” Jungwoo says before grabbing a couple of bottles of clear liquid and expertly twirling them around as he pours them into glasses. “Here you go, four ‘let’s change the subject Jungwoo’s coming right up.” Doyoung rolls his eyes before downing the shot.

Jaehyun does the same, grimacing as his throat burns before a warm feeling slowly settles in his body.

He’s not sure when they end up dancing, but all he knows is that a few hours later the air around them is hot—too hot. Mark screams into the microphone every few songs to follow his SoundCloud, and the harsh beats and bass thrum deep throughout Jaheyun’s body. Johnny and Taeyong had long gone off on their own, and Jaehyun’s eyes can’t find the two as he scans over the crowd, but he can see Doyoung shoving through the bodies to reach him, before he ultimately stumbles and Jaehyun finds himself suddenly holding his arms out as Doyoung falls against his chest.

“Sorry,” Doyoung murmurs against his ear, the scent of vodka emanating off of him. His breath is warm against Jaehyun’s skin as Jaehyun’s arms wrap around Doyoung’s slim waist. “‘S too hot, feel like ‘m suffocating.” The other slurs.

“Wanna get out of here?” Jaehyun asks quietly, already shoving through the crowds to the exit. He grunts, finding it difficult to move Doyoung along so he just picks up the other, Doyoung’s legs automatically wrapping around his hips.

Doyoung nods, his head slumping against Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Tired,” he mutters.

“I know,” Jaehyun says, his hand rubbing up and down Doyoung’s back. He nods awkwardly at Jungwoo on the way out, the bartender waving eagerly at them.

The night air is blissfully chilly against Jaehyun’s skin but Doyoung buries himself further into Jaehyun’s arms, the other’s lanky body contorting awkwardly against Jaehyun’s chest. Their hotel is only a few blocks away, but Jaehyun only makes it halfway before Doyoung shoves against his chest, surprising Jaehyun before he’s abruptly dropped to the ground. Doyoung groans. “Shit! Doyoung I’m sorry!”

“I don’t feel good,” Doyoung says, clutching his stomach before he rolls over and throws up the contents of his stomach into a nearby bush. “Fuck.”

“Oh my god,” Jaehyun rubs Doyoung’s back as the other moans, “are you okay?”

“Drank too much.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun pulls Doyoung to his feet, ”let’s get you to bed.” Jaehyun drags a tired Doyoung towards the hotel. It’s almost 3 in the morning, so Kun isn’t behind the front desk like he normally is as Jaehyun and Doyoung stumble onto the elevator. Doyoung is half-asleep so Jaehyun heads down the hall to his room, sliding his key card through the scanner. “C’mon Bunny, why don’t you brush your teeth? You’ll feel better,” he mutters while leading Doyoung to the bathroom.

Doyoung dutifully obeys, using Jaehyun’s toothbrush and splashing water on his face. Meanwhile, Jaehyun takes out an old t-shirt for Doyoung and sets it on the bathroom counter. A few minutes later, Doyoung emerges, wrapped in an oversized tee and boxers. He wordlessly joins Jaehyun on the bed, lifting up the covers and burying himself into a pillow. “Sorry,” Doyoung’s muffled voice says.

Jaehyun pulls the covers over the two of them, turning off the lamp on his bedside table. “Sorry about what?”

“Getting drunk, making you leave early, throwing up.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “it really wasn’t that bad.” The sheets rustle and Jaehyun can just make out Doyoung turning over to look at him in the dark.

“It was gross,” Doyoung’s fingers trace shapes on the mattress between them. “I’m gross.”

“You aren’t,” Jaehyun says, “shit happens. I don’t really care.”

Doyoung looks down. “I probably looked disgusting.”

“It’s normal Doyoung, I didn’t think you looked disgusting. Sure, I felt bad for you, but I’d never think that.”

Doyoung stares at Jaehyun, for a long time. Jaehyun feels like the sound of the clock ticking on his bedside table is deafening. “You always did this.”

“Did what?”

“You’re not seeing me as a flawed person, again.” Doyoung frowns.

Jaehyun narrows his eyes. “Jesus Christ Doyoung, it isn’t a big deal-”

“I threw up! In a fucking bush!”

“Yes, and I’m not going to call you disgusting because of that,” Jaehyun sighs. “I shouldn’t have to see you as gross or whatever for me to see you as human. There’s a difference between realism and just plain pessimism.”

“But-”

“We’ve been over this. Yes, I needed to stop idealizing you, to fall in love with who you were as a person, not just this wild notion of love I built up in my head. But you also need to stop seeing all your flaws as this, blemish or fallacy to your entire life.”

Doyoung scowls. “Flaws aren’t good.”

“No, they aren’t. But they’re not horrible. They don’t make you less of a person, they make you a more well-rounded person. Doyoung, I’m never going to associate words like ‘gross’ and ‘disgusting’ with you. It’s not,” Jaehyun sighs, “it’s not a bad thing that I find you beautiful.”

Doyoung is quiet. “Maybe we can meet in the middle.”

Jaehyun reaches out to pull Doyoung towards his chest. “We can.” He breathes out, before they’re both leaning forward and lips are overlapping, Jaehyun rolling them over until he’s leaning over Doyoung, never disconnecting the soft pressure of their lips against each other.

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I don’t know who to blame for our breakup. It could have been you, with the way you put me on an unrealistic pedestal, ignored who I really was, and didn’t see me as a real person. But it was also probably me, because I only focus on the negatives, blow things out of proportion, and have shitty communication skills. _

_ Maybe it was both of us. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

“How are you two doing?” Taeyong asks while they’re eating instant ramen in Donghyuck’s shitty studio apartment. The artist had stepped out for a second to meet up with his friends and let Taeyong and Jaehyun stay in his apartment, flipping through canvases.

“It’s good,” Jaehyun says. “We’re getting there.”

“Uh huh,” Taeyong examines a still-life. “But is it good enough?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will he come back with us?”

Jaehyun’s mouth twists around his chopsticks. “I don’t know. He’s talked about coming back recently, but we haven’t really addressed it. We haven’t even addressed us. Like, put a label on it.”

Taeyong glances at Jaehyun over a canvas. “You might want to do that.” He slurps up a spoonful of noodles.

“Well what about you and Johnny?”

Taeyong pauses, “I don’t know either.”

“Hm.”

“I think we’re just going to see where it takes us. Besides, it’s really only been a thing for what—a week? Things will be fine if it doesn’t go anywhere, I really don’t even know him.” Taeyong sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of the truth.

“That sucks,” Jaehyun says.

“I know.” Taeyong frowns. “But it’ll be good while it lasts. And who knows, maybe we’ll work.” He looks up at Jaehyun. “Stop changing the subject though, you need to make a choice.”

Jaehyun stuffs his face full of ramen to avoid speaking.

“Either Doyoung comes back with us or he stays here, and we both know that if he does, you’ll probably never get back together. Figure it out Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun sighs. “I will.”

 

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I started packing earlier today. It’s weird, to be leaving the place that I’ve called home for so long. I hope I’ll feel good enough to come back one day. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

“We should talk.” Jaehyun says, the morning sunlight filtering into his hotel room as Doyoung reads a newspaper next to the window, still wearing pajamas, the large t-shirt slipping off of his shoulders to reveal purple bruises.

Doyoung looks up, surprised. “Oh?”

“I—I need to show you something.” Jaehyun mutters, leaning down from the bed and grabbing his bookbag, which lays crumpled on the floor. He opens up the pouch, turning the bag upside down and letting piles of cream colored paper hit the floor.

Doyoung’s fingers clench around the newspaper, the sound of crumpled paper filling the room. “Where did you get these?” He asks quietly.

“I found them, in our old apartment. I still had the key.” Jaehyun says. “They’re-”

“I know what they are. I wrote them,” Doyoung stands up on shaky legs, his bare feet making no sounds as he walks over and picks up a piece of paper.  _ “Dear Jaehyun,” _ he reads outloud, mumbling. “So you knew?” Doyoung looks up, his voice hysterical. “You knew I was still in love with you?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun responds, his voice small.

“Okay, okay.” Doyoung says, backing up. Jaehyun latches onto the other’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s an invasion of privacy-”

Doyoung laughs bitterly, “that’s the understatement of the year.”

“I just—after I got your first letters, I needed answers.”

“Well,” Doyoung gestures down to the letters, “you fucking found them.”

“They’re the reason I came out here.” Jaehyun says, “God, even the thought that you still loved me, it forced me into action. I can’t lose you Doyoung, not again.”

Doyoung stares into Jaehyun’s eyes, “I don’t want you to.”

“Then how about we start again?”

Doyoung looks vulnerable, his frame slumping forward. “I don’t know, I’m just-”

“Just what?”

“I’m just scared.”

“I know, I am too.” Jaehyun says, “but we can make it work.”

“But things, they aren’t perfect yet.”

“They don’t need to be,” Jaehyun intertwines their fingers, “we can figure stuff out. Everything doesn’t need to be flawless before we start over. We just need to talk about it.”

“Okay, let’s talk then.” Doyoung says tentatively.

“We have a lot of issues to get past,” Jaehyun says, “but I think we’re starting to move forward.”

“How so?”

“Doyoung, you’re beautiful. You’re intelligent, witty, and kind. But you’re also a pessimist, you have coffee breath after breakfast, and you tend to get wrapped up in your writing and ignore the outside world for weeks. I want to be with you, but I want to be with all of you. Not just the things that I think make you a masterpiece, but also all of the sketches and lines underneath, that no one else sees.”

Doyoung stares at Jaehyun, “I think, I think I misjudged you. Before, you didn’t see me as human, but now I’m not so sure. I still think you were idealizing us, holding us up to a standard I felt pressured to meet, but now I know that you see everything in a different light than I do. The version of life you live is more romantic. You see the beauty in everything. I just,” Doyoung laughs bitterly, “I want things to be perfect, and yet, I know they aren’t.”

“Nothing should be perfect,” Jaehyun says, his head tilting forward.

“No, it shouldn’t be. And that’s okay,” Doyoung smiles and steps towards Jaehyun.

“Yes it is.” Jaehyun’s lips land against Doyoung’s their intertwined hands resting between them. Doyoung’s free hand rises up to tangle in the hair on Jaehyun’s nape while Jaehyun rubs his thumb soothingly into Doyoung’s side. Jaehyun’s tongue swipes across Doyoung’s bottom lip and the other opens up eagerly, pressing himself even closer to Jaehyun. Jaehyun smiles into the kiss as he moves against the other, grinning cheekily when Doyoung’s moan is muffled by Jaehyun.

They separate, panting, their chests moving to the same rhythm. Jaehyun breaks the string of saliva connecting them. “Do you want to try again? For real?”

“Yes.” Doyoung says, beaming.

“Doyoung, will you come home with me?” Jaehyun asks.

Doyoung pauses. “Yes, I think it’s time I came back.”

They lean forward again, meeting each other halfway.

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I had another dream about us. We were just sitting on the couch, watching a movie. I don’t remember which one, because you kept trying to kiss me. _

_ Sicheng tells me that sometimes dreams come true. God, I sure hope so. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

 

Jaehyun lazily throws things into his suitcase, a stark difference from how neatly his suitcase was packed when he first arrived. Taeyong was waiting for him downstairs, and according to the multiple texts he had received from the other, so was Donghyuck, who was currently bouncing off the walls with his excitement. As Jaehyun zips up the suitcase, shoving all of his clothes in a disorganized mess in order to close it, he receives another text from Doyoung.

**[DOYOUNG]: i just got downstairs! hurry up, i think taeyong is about to kill donghyuck**

**[DOYOUNG]: johnny’s here tho. ig he wanted to say goodbye**

Jaehyun slips his phone into his pocket, glancing around the hotel room before his eyes rest on the pile of letters, organized neatly onto the hotel desk. He pauses, staring at them before grabbing the stack and throwing them into the trash can. Right before he moves away however, something catches his eye and he bends down to fish it out of the bin. It’s written on white hotel stationary and Jaehyun quickly unfolds it, flattening out the paper with his palm against the desk.

_ Dear Jaehyun, _

_ I’m still in love with you. _

_ Love, _

_ Doyoung _

Jaehyun’s heart beats wildly as he scrambles for a pen, ripping off a sheet of the same stationary. The cheap hotel ballpoint pen refuses to work for a few moments, but soon, he’s scrawling his message back to Doyoung on the paper and slipping it into his pocket.

_ Dear Doyoung, _

_ I’m still in love with you too. _

_ Love, _

_ Jaehyun _

 

**Author's Note:**

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